


i was enchanted to meet you

by houseofthedragon



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted (2007) Fusion, Daenerys Targaryen/Jaime Lannister (VERY minor/implied), F/M, Fluff and Humor, Jon Snow is Not a Targaryen, Minor Jon Snow/Ygritte, Modern Setting, Smut, and dragons but you'll see, daenerys is cute too, fuck d&d (that's not part of the story....i'm just saying), he's a cute dad, more of a disney westeros, the enchanted au NOBODY asked for, there's also westeros but less complicated, this is really a crackfic, this is some proper disney shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-08-14 07:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houseofthedragon/pseuds/houseofthedragon
Summary: In a magical land called Westeros, Princess Daenerys Targaryen is closer than ever to obtain her happily-ever-after with the beautiful prince Jaime Lannister. Together, they will be King and Queen and have many, many heirs.Or so she believed. When Jaime's evil twin sister Cersei banishes Daenerys to a strange world with no magic, no dragons, no thrones and full of rude people who don't smile back, she has to rely on a young man called Jon Snow and his sweet six-year-old daughter to get back to her life.





	1. once upon a time...

“Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in a tower. She was always all alone and had no friends to talk with.”

Drogon lets out a little growl of protest, tilting his head to the side as if to say _really_?

Daenerys giggles. “I’m sorry, I’ll correct that.” She clears her throat and begins again, more carefully, “Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in a tower. She was always all alone and had no _human _friends to talk to but she had three baby dragons who were her best friends in the entire world.”

Viserion, the one with golden scales, purrs at ber words as if he understood them, curling around Dany’s waist. This is his way of hugging her. She smiles at how adorable he is. “She wishes she—stop Rhaegal! It tickles.” The green-scaled dragon is on her thigh, delighted by her laughter, his claw digging into her flesh in a way that tickles her because of how small he is. For now, that is. She is certain that in a few years there won't be anything funny about a dragon's claws on her skin. 

Daenerys sighs as she looks down at her unusual pets. “What would I do without you?” she asks them and in a way herself. She only has them now. And an empty castle with the ghosts of people she's loved and lost. “Do you think I’ll ever find true love? Will I ever get out of this place?”

The timing could not have been better.

“Is that a horse?” she asks aloud upon hearing the distinctive sounds of galloping.

She takes Drogon with her as she runs to the large window, gasping at the sight of the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. On a pale white horse, a tall man with golden hair and a dazzling smile looks up, his beautiful eyes making her heart jump from her chest to her throat. Her dragon makes a deep sound and Dany looks down at Drogon, her eyes wide. “Isn’t that the prince?” she asks in a hushed whisper, eyeing the lion carved onto his breastplate.

“I will be waiting for you at the door,” he shouts.

Daenerys gasps once more, not believing her ears nor the words that just spilled out of his mouth in that deep voice of his. “Oh gods!” she exclaims, pacing the room. “The prince is here for _me_? How do I look?”

Drogon cocks his little head to the side, not offering an answer. She rolls her eyes at herself. Viserion, ever the loyal companion, flies to her nightstand. “Careful, Vis. Your wings aren’t strong enough,” she says when she notices how sloppy his flying is. She's been trying to train them the best she can but it's hard to, a dragon is a peculiar animal to have. It's not like a dog that she can take hiking and teach how to sit. Dragons are smart but they're complicated creatures. 

Her little golden friend bites down on the dragon brooch she usually wears, offering it to her. She grins. “Good idea,” she states, grabbing it from his mouth and using it to pin her hair, taking a look in the reflecting glass.

She looks presentable. If she’d known he was coming, she would’ve worn her most beautiful dress. The one that is red and black, the most expensive of her collection. But this pale blue dress she got from Meereen will have to do since she doesn't have time to change. “I’ll be back, boys.” She gives each of them a kiss on top of their scaly heads, rushing down the stairs to welcome the prince.

He is even more beautiful up close. Perhaps a bit older than her but she doesn’t care one bit. She's been so lonely she'd be happy to see a fish merchant right now. “Princess Daenerys.” His voice is like melted honey, smooth and delicious. He takes her hand in his and presses his lips on the back, her skin tingling at the feeling of his mouth upon it. 

“My prince,” she breathes out. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’ve heard of your father’s passing,” he says with a regretful look.

Daenerys’ smile turns sad. “Yes. My father’s gone, unfortunately.”

“And you live here alone.” His eyes dart behind her, taking the place in with his green eyes. “That is such a shame.”

“It really is.” Her heartbeat gets just a bit faster. “I am waiting for a proposal. From a lord or a prince, anyone to take me away from this sad place.” She looks down shyly.

“Then you should stop waiting,” declares Jaime with an intensity that makes Daenerys feel like she’s won the world. “Marry me, Daenerys. Marry me and you shall be Queen of Westeros. Marry me and you’ll never live a sad day in your life ever again.”

Her fingers touch her lips in shock. “Oh! I was not expecting this.”

“I’ve been searching for my future wife all over Westeros,” he says, “But I think this shall be my last stop. Who could compare to you and your beauty, Princess?”

She blushes. “Thank you, my prince. That is the sweetest thing someone’s said to me in a very long while.”

“Is that a yes?” His grin is slowly widening.

Daenerys nods, failing to hide her giddiness. “Yes, a thousand times yes.”

He takes her in his arms, whirls her around until the world is spinning and she is laughing. This is the happiest she’s ever been in her life.

***

_Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

Cersei stares into the flames, the witch’s words playing in her mind like a mantra, nagging her. 

“It has to be her,” she says spitefully. “She’s taking everything from me. My brother, my kingdom. She’ll take my life as well.”

“I will never let anyone hurt you,” Euron promises.

“What’s a pirate compared to a woman with three dragons?” she growls.

“They’re not even grown yet and I am no ordinary pirate, I can do magic.” He pauses. “And Daenerys seems kind. Perhaps you ought to give her a chan—”

“Kind?” Her voice rises as she faces Euron. “You dare call her kind?”

“But—”

“The crown is supposed to be _mine_. I got rid of every princess in Westeros for a reason, so that Jaime can never marry another and we can rule together.” Her eyes are unforgiving as she stares at Euron. “How did we miss that silver-haired bitch?”

“I don’t know, my Queen.” Euron lowers his head in shame. “I did not mean to fail you.”

She huffs. “It doesn’t matter now. Are you sure this new plan will work?”

He looks up at her, his eyes a mixture of fright and anticipation. “It will. When Daenerys walks through that door, she’ll be sent to another world. A world void of magic and kingdoms. She’ll be gone…forever.” Euron lowers his voice, “But is this what you truly want?”

Cersei takes in a deep breath. “I need to get rid of her,” she declares slowly, “before she gets rid of me.”

***

On the morning of her wedding day, Daenerys takes one last trip to the forest. She imagines life as a Queen will be a lot busier than that of a lonely princess who had nothing to do, so she decides to enjoy this last moment of peace and serenity before her world will be forever changed.

“Queen Daenerys,” she says wistfully, a grin breaking across her face as she tastes the words. “It sounds good, doesn’t it?” She looks down at her basket, in which her three dragons are resting. Only Drogon is sat up, observing her as she collects the ripest berries to make jelly for breakfast. 

“I wonder if his sister will like me,” she confesses softly, her fingers running over a blueberry. Daenerys exhales silently. “I want her to like me. Do you think I should cook her something? Or sew her a dress? They say she’s beautiful and her eyes are green like Jaime’s. Perhaps I can make her a pretty green dress.”

“That won’t be necessary,” a new voice cuts through the silence of the woods. “I like you already, dear.”

Daenerys sucks in a sharp breath as she turns around, coming face-to-face with a gorgeous woman. From her piercing eyes to the yellowish colour of her hair, Daenerys recognises Cersei Lannister almost immediately. The rumours were correct, she is a sight for sore eyes. She bows. “Your Grace.”

“No need for such formalities. We’ll be family soon.” Her lips are painted red. _Like blood_, Dany thinks. “And you’ll be my Queen.”

Daenerys’ cheeks warm up, feeling relieved by the woman’s friendliness after she'd been thinking about how to win her over. It seems like that won't be necessary after all. 

“But on the other hand, I wish to give you a gift.”

“Oh, no no. Please, you don’t have to.”

“It would make me happy,” she insists.

Daenerys wants to argue but the woman’s eyes are so deep that she feels compelled to agree. She smiles, a bit unsurely. “If that is the case….”

“Do you see that red door there?” Cersei asks.

Daenerys turns to where she is pointing, her gaze landing on a peculiar door in the middle of the forest, leaves and branches surrounding it. She furrows her brows. “I’ve never seen that before,” she murmurs, befuddled by its presence. She comes here almost every other day, how could she have missed this?

“It’s magical,” Cersei says, coming to stand closer to Daenerys. “What’s one thing you wish for the most in the world?”

“Meeting your brother was everything I ever wished for,” Daenerys replies truthfully. Love is all she’s ever dreamed of. She doesn't even want to be Queen, she just wants to be in love and have a family. A home that is full of life and brightness. 

Cersei’s upper lip twitches, eyes darkening. But the next moment, the ominous look is gone and she looks sweet again. “Yes, of course. But other than that…think of anything, no matter how impossible it might seem.”

Daenerys tries to come up with something her heart truly desires. Her first thought is her father. But as sad as she is about Aerys’ death, he was a cruel man who had hurt her on several occasions. Would it make her a bad person if she says that she never wants to see him again? She pushes the thought away, today is about new beginnings. “I know what I want,” she tells Cersei. “But it’s truly impossible.”

Her future sister-in-law touches her cheek and Daenerys flinches the slightest, the woman’s fingers are _so_ cold. Like ice. “Anything is possible with this door. What is it that you wish for?”

“I want to meet my mother,” Daenerys discloses her heart’s truest desire, the only thing she’s ever wanted since she was old enough to want anything. “She died in childbirth. I never got to meet her.”

Cersei’s smile broadens. “Then…walk through the red door and you’ll have a moment with your mother.”

Daenerys cannot bring herself to believe her words. Still, her eyes fill with tears. Her heart clenches with hope. “Are you certain?” Her voice is a fragile, faint thing.

“Go on. You’ll see.” Her eyes land on the basket draped across Dany’s arm. “And take these little monst—I mean, dragons, with you.”

Daenerys looks down at her three friends, who seem as doubtful about the situation as she is. “Why?”

“Well, won’t your mother be proud that her daughter has dragons?”

“Yes, I think she would be,” Daenerys admits. “I could tell her how I got them. How I hatched them!”

Cersei nods enthusiastically. “You could. Go, Daenerys. Make your dream come true.”

The emotions in her chest are too intricate to put into words. The silver-haired girl sniffs. “Thank you,” she whispers as she turns to the red door.

Drogon is restless next to his brothers. He is twisting and turning and growling. Daenerys can sense his distress. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her heart pounding with the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through her blood at the thought of seeing Rhaella, “We can trust her.”

She looks back at the red door. It’s so pretty, the colour is captivating. It’s calling out to her and she is floating towards it, the world around her slowly but surely crumbling apart until it is all she can see.

_Make your dream come true_.

She opens the door.

***

“Judging from your smile, I’m assuming all went well,” is what Euron greets her with as she steps into the castle.

“The last thing I heard before she closed the door was her scream,” Cersei says, “It was the most beautiful thing ever.”

“Sister!” Jaime bursts through the door, his face twisted in anger. “Where is she?”

Cersei doesn’t blink. “Who?”

“My wife!”

“She’s not your wife, you didn’t marry her.”

“_Yet_. What did you do to her?”

“Unlike the other princesses, I didn’t kill her,” she answers nonchalantly.

Jaime’s face blanches with horror. “You’re vile,” he says, the words landing heavily in her guts. “I love her.”

Cersei scoffs. “Oh, please. You’ve known her for a day.” She rolls her eyes at him. “_I_ love you. What we have is real. We came into this world together, we belong together.”

Jaime’s face twists in even more disgust when he understands the meaning behind her words. “I love you. As a sister.”

The words hurt her more than they should. “Many people have practised incest in Westeros.”

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t love you like that. Where is she?”

She holds his eyes defiantly. “Gone.”

“Where?”

“To a world without magic. Without Kings and Queens. A world far, far away from here.”

“You used black magic to send her away?” His tone is full of resentment and she hates it. Can’t he see she’s doing what’s best for them?

“Forget her,” she begs. “Be with me. We can rule together.”

“I chose _her_,” he enunciates, crushing her heart like he always does, “And she has three dragons. When they grow up, we can take over the world together, not just Westeros." _Ah, _Cersei thinks bitterly, _this is what it's about: the dragons._ "I need to find Daenerys.” He turns to Euron. “Take me to her.”

“No!” Cersei is hysteric now. “You can’t leave me.”

Jaime gives her a sharp look. “Then you should’ve never sent her away. Euron, this is an order from your King.”

The pirate looks confused, his eyes moving between the twins in a frenzy.

“Euron,” Cersei says calmly but the tone of her voice is clear and hard, “_Don’t_.”

Jaime unsheathes his sword. Upon seeing the shiny blade, sharp enough to cut a man’s tongue out, Euron’s eyes widen. With a few hand gestures, the red door appears. “J-just walk through it and you’ll be sent to the world in which Daenerys is.”

Jaime nods. Looks back at Cersei. “Enjoy your last moments pretending you’re the Queen, sister. When we come back, you’ll kneel to us.”

Cersei can practically hear her heart shattering when Jaime twists the doorknob. She winces as the door opens and bright light fills the room. When she blinks, he’s already gone.

“No!” she screams. “No, no, _no_.”

Euron attempts to calm her down. “My Queen, you—”

“This is _your_ fault,” she says, her voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “You convinced me not to kill that bitch. You told me there was a better, bloodless option. I should’ve known there’s never such a thing.”

He looks away from her apologetically. “I apologise. I’ll understand if you choose to punish me.”

Cersei considers her options. It’d feel good to slit his throat open or to have one of her guards whip him until he is yelling in pain. But it won’t bring Jaime back. It won’t stop him from finding _her_. “I’m not going to punish you,” she says suddenly, laughing.

Euron dares a look at her. “You won’t?”

Cersei regains her posture, standing as tall as the Queen she’s meant to be. “I’m sending you to them. Bring Jaime back to me safe and sound. As for Daenerys Targaryen,” she pauses, weighing what she’d like best, “I want her head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen...idk what this is. i was watching this movie with my little cousin since it's one of her favourites and i realised how perfectly this could fit for a jonerys au and then i thought maybe someone already wrote this but nobody did and ugh i really want to read this so here we are i guess. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this (pretty short) first chapter, please leave a comment even if it's to tell me how weird this is lmao. xx


	2. home.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“You seem nervous.”

“Why would you say that?”

“You won’t stop moving your leg.”

Jon did not even realise he’s been doing this for a moment now, an anxious tick that has obviously been distracting his daughter.

Six years into fatherhood and he still doesn’t know how to approach certain aspects of it. To be fair, when eighteen-year-old Jon Snow woke up one Saturday morning to his doorbell ringing, he had expected to open the door to the mailman or one of his neighbours complaining about loud music. Not a baby put in a trolley with a note tucked next to her head. The piece of paper simply read: _she’s yours. Sorry. I can’t look after a child at the moment and you’re richer so you’ll figure things out._

Needless to say, that was not the ideal way to become a parent. He went from a teenager who just graduated high school and was supposed to spend the best summer of his life to a father. It was drastic, to say the least.

But over the years and with the help and counsel of people around him, he’d like to believe he became a better father. Not the best, surely, but he got the hang of it. 

“To become a good father, you have to become a good person,” Jon’s father had told him once.

He took that advice to heart. He changed his whole life and diverted from the original path he wished to take to become a better man for his daughter. And even if sometimes it’s tough and it feels unfair, wondering why he has to deal with all of this while the mother just took no responsibilities whatsoever and disappeared forever, there’s no better feeling in the world than waking up next to his child. No better feeling than watching her grow, say her first word, walk her first step and tell him that she loves him. 

So, sure, sometimes he misses hanging out with the boys and having a drink with a pretty woman at a bar but all these little things can't begin to compare to the joy of seeing Lyanna smile for him. 

But at twenty-four, Jon still has a hard time with certain things.

For example, how does he tell his daughter that she’ll have a stepmother soon since he’s planning to ask his girlfriend’s hand in marriage? While his parents told him that one day he'll need to have the sex talk with his daughter, no one’s prepared him for _this_ talk. 

Lyanna is staring at him now, her round eyes filled with concern.

“I’m alright,” he finally says, “Just a bit stressed because of work. How’s the food?”

She looks down at the bowl of half-eaten noodles, twisting her fork in it mindlessly. She shrugs. “It’s good,” she comments. “But spicy.”

Jon hums. “Would you like some water?”

“No, it’s fine.” Lyanna smiles at him and goes back to eating.

Jon watches her silently, mentally scolding himself for not _just_ saying it. It can’t be that fucking hard. Lyanna knows Ygritte and understands that her father loves that woman. But she is also a very shy kid; Jon knows she has trouble making new friends at school and despite knowing Ygritte for almost a year now, she’s never grown to like her as much as Jon hoped she would. So the news could still be troubling for her and the last thing Jon wants to do is to cause his daughter pain in any way, shape or form. Her happiness is all that matters to him at the end of the day therefore in a strange way, he needs her blessings to go forward with the proposal.

Biting the insides of his cheeks, Jon decides to jump in. Go for it. The worst that could happen is that Lyanna doesn’t like the idea of Jon marrying another woman and in that case, he doesn’t mind waiting some more until she eventually warms up to Ygritte. And the best scenario will be her being delighted to have a mother figure. Jon hadn’t been entirely truthful with her. He couldn’t tell her ‘oh, you know, I was an idiotic teenager who had a few one-night-stands and one of them got pregnant and dropped you at my doorstep and then vanished so yeah…I don’t even know who your mother is’ because he figured that could be quite traumatic for a child so he settled on telling her that her mother died, which isn’t that much better but honestly less complicated to explain than what truly happened.

“Lya,” Jon begins, his throat suddenly feeling as dry as a desert.

His daughter looks up from her plate, a strand of curly hair falling over her face. Jon smiles softly, reaching over to tuck it behind her ear. “I need to tell you something,” he says, “something that will change our lives.”

Lyanna frowns slightly. “Yes?”

“So, you know that Ygr—”

The rest of his sentence gets caught up in his throat as someone flings the door to the restaurant open, the bells just above it ringing wildly as a distressed woman steps—no, _crashes _inside.

Everyone looks at her. From the few clients eating to the receptionists and waiters. Every pair of eyes is drawn to the storm of bright silver hair that just emerged out of nowhere. Her right cheek is covered in mud, her eyes are wide and of a bizarre colour, her hair is unbound and messy and her dress…. Jon blinks. Surely it must be a costume. He’s not much of a fashion guy nor does he know a lot about women’s clothing but he went shopping with Ygritte enough times to know that _this _is not what’s considered trendy for girls nowadays. This intricate dress that she is wearing, which is tightly fitted at her chest and waist and then flares at the bottom, looks like something out of a fairy tale or a cartoon.

After a moment, the initial shock subsides and people start minding their business again, going back to their food and conversations while the waiters resume doing their jobs. Jon is one of the first people to look away but his daughter’s eyes are glued to the weird woman. “Lya,” he says in a hushed tone, “It’s not polite to stare. Get back to eating.”

Lyanna blinks, eyes trailing back to her plate.

Jon puts a piece of broccoli into his mouth when he hears the woman speak. It’s hard not to, considering he’s sitting at the table which is the closest to the receptionist.

Her voice is sweet and her accent is…unidentifiable. She doesn’t sound like she’s from the North at all, though. “Hello,” she says, “I am Princess Daenerys Targaryen. And I think I’ve lost my way. I was in the forest next to the Red Keep and then I walked through a door but it led me here. I’m so confused. Can you help me?”

Lyanna must’ve heard her too for she suppresses a smile in front of Jon. “It’s not funny,” Jon mouths to her, even if his own mouth curls at whatever the hell this woman is speaking of.

“Uh,” the man behind the counter says. “Ma’am, I’m not sure I follow. Do you want to speak to the manager?”

“What’s that? I only want to know how to get back to the castle.”

“What are you talking about, ma’am?”

“I’m supposed to get married to the prince today.”

A wave of quiet chuckles washes over the room. Even Jon has to bite down on his lower lip not to laugh at this scene. Is this a joke? Some new reality TV show? Are there hidden cameras around?

“Okay, that’s enough.” A waitress walks up to the girl. “I’m going to need you to leave if you’re not going to order anything.”

The young woman protests, “I desperately need help. You will receive a reward if you can bring me back to my betrothed, that is my word to you as the future Queen.”

Jon cringes as even more people laugh. The silver-haired girl doesn’t seem to realise she’s making a fool of herself, which pushes Jon to truly believe that this is all set up. It _has_ to be.

Two waitresses escort her out and Jon shakes his head. That was strange.

“Do you think she’s really a princess?”

Jon looks up at his daughter and laughs. At the sight of her serious expression, his chuckles abruptly stop. She’s asking an honest question. “No, honey,” he answers, trying to keep the mirth out of his tone, “It’s probably just a prank or something for TV.”

“Oh.” Lyanna sounds disheartened.

As they finish eating, he realises that this little distraction has stopped him from telling his daughter what he brought her here to speak about. His engagement to Ygritte. As Lyanna yawns and he checks his watch, noting that it’s half-past eight already and she has school tomorrow, he finds yet another excuse to push back the inevitable talk. “We should get going,” he announces as he uses the napkin to wipe the side of her mouth.

“But weren’t you telling me something?” she asks.

Jon waves a hand dismissively. “It can wait.”

When they step outside, the crisp air is enough to make Lyanna shiver. Jon picks her up so he can share some of his warmth as they walk to his car in the parking lot. But her small voice stops him, “Daddy, wait. Look, it’s the princess.”

Jon glances to his right and, indeed, the peculiar woman who just caused a fiasco in the restaurant is sitting on the sidewalk, her knees brought up to her chest, her chin rested on top of them. There’s something alarmingly innocent about this girl here, looking small, fragile and lost with her untamed hair fanning over her like a curtain.

He shakes his head. “It’s going to rain soon. We need to get going.”

Lyanna insistently tugs on the lapels of his coat. “But dad, look. She’s crying. And her shoes…they’re ruined.”

Inadvertently, he takes a more thorough look at the woman. The ridiculous heels on her feet look damaged, her dress is all mussed and dirty. And much to his dismay, she really is crying, her shoulders twitching and shaking with deep sobs.

“We don’t know her,” he argues weakly.

“We can’t leave her like that,” his daughter debates, quite bull-headed for her age. “You’re the one who told me to always help people.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I mean helping old people cross the road or something not…this.”

“Please, father. She might be hurt.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright. Let's just talk to her for a second."

Lyanna hops down from his arms, taking his hand in hers and confidently guides them to the odd woman. When she hears footsteps approaching, she lifts her head. Jon’s breath hitches in his throat. She’s beautiful in an _otherworldly_ way.

Bloodshot eyes flicker from his own to his daughter’s who dares step closer to the girl. “Hello,” Lyanna greets.

The young woman’s eyes widen and then a grin breaks across her teary face. “Hello!” she exclaims, “You’re the first person to smile to me in this strange place. I am Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen and you?”

“Um…I’m Lyanna.”

The girl, Daenerys, nods. “Nice to meet you, Lady Lyanna.”

_What even?_

Jon clears his throat. “Hi. I’m Jon and this is my daughter,” he says, much more formally, “We were just wondering…if we could help you. You seem very distraught.”

She finally looks up at him and her rosy lips part in surprise. “You’ll help me?” she asks, a bit breathless, sounding hopeful.

Jon is about to answer but his daughter beats him to it. “Yes, how _can_ we help you?”

Daenerys looks back at Lyanna and wets her lips, sitting up straight. “I need to find Jaime Lannister. He’s the prince, do you know him?”

Jon frowns. “He’s the what?”

“The prince,” she restates as if that’s a normal thing to say, “We’re getting married, actually. But his sister made me walk through this door and told me I’d see my mother but then I ended up here. And I can’t find anyone that I know and everyone is so rude, mannerless--”

Jon shakes his head, interrupting her ranting. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you’re confusing me right now. What door?”

“The red door.”

Jon looks down at Lyanna who shrugs at him, as confused as ever.

A better idea occurs to him right then. Jon digs his hand into his back pocket, taking out his phone. He hands it to her wordlessly. “Here. You can call this…Jaime.”

She just stares down at the device like she’s seeing a ghost.

Jon awkwardly retracts his hand, unlocking the phone and going to the keypad. “What’s his number?” he asks instead.

Daenerys cocks her head to the side, examining Jon. “His…number?”

“To call him,” he explains slowly, “Do you not remember it? Anything? His home number or office or something?”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” she breathes out. “I feel like I’m dreaming,” she murmurs to herself.

Jon runs a hand over his face. Above him, thunder roars. “It’s about to rain,” he says again. Looks down at his daughter. “We should just go.”

“We can’t leave her like this,” Lyanna says.

“Well, we can’t help her,” he says, harsher than what he intended. “She’s clearly…unwell.”

“Yes. And you want us to leave her here?” Lyanna’s eyes flash with an emotion that he never wants to see from his daughter, directed at him: disappointment.

He clenches his jaw in frustration. The girl with platinum hair is hugging her hands around herself, looking exhausted and utterly lost. Something about her innocence tugs at Jon’s heartstrings, only amplified by his daughter’s concerned expression. If he leaves right now, he knows his subconscious won't let him feel guiltless. He exhales heavily. “Listen,” he declares, knowing he’s most likely about to regret what he says, “it’s very late and you’re obviously lost. How about I take you to my house, let you sleep for the night and then tomorrow you can go find your…future husband or whatever?”

_Please say no._

Daenerys’ head snaps back up to him. “Oh, you’d do this for me?” She stands up and Jon realises that she’s quite short.

He nods unsurely.

She nods, smiling. “Thank you, my lord.”

He blinks, completely lost. “I’m…not a lord.”

“Oh. Thank you, ser Jon.”

He doesn’t bother arguing with her.

When he takes her to his car, however, she lets out a loud gasp.

Startled, Jon turns to her. “What?”

Daenerys points at his car. “This is one of the things that almost hit me!”

“A car almost hit you?”

“When I opened the door, I-I was standing in the middle of the road and there was a lot of…_these_ around.”

“You opened a door that led you into the middle of traffic?” he questions, pronouncing every word carefully so she knows how insane she sounds.

But she only nods frantically.

“Okay.” He presses his lips together. Gods, this was a terrible, _terrible_ idea. “Can you get in, please?” He opens the door for her.

“She’s so funny,” Lyanna whispers to him when Daenerys gets in. “Can we keep her?”

“What? She’s a human being, Lya. Not a dog.” He rolls his eyes at his daughter. “Get in too.”

***

“And then the prince came to see me yesterday morning…and asked me to marry him.”

“And you said yes?”

“Of course! He’s the most beautiful man alive, how could I say no?”

“What happened then?”

“This morning, I was in the forest when his sister came to me. She showed me a magical red door and said that whatever I wish for will come true if I walk through the door.”

“What did you wish for?”

“To see my mother. You see, my lady, I never knew my mother. I heard great tales about her but sadly, she died giving birth to me.”

“Oh, my mother is dead too.”

Jon’s grip tightens around the steering wheel. “Okay, that’s enough,” he cuts them off, infuriated.

He has no idea how she’s coming up with this whole thing but he doesn’t need a pseudo princess to remind his daughter of such a sensitive topic. Especially when her story is obviously fake while Lyanna really does not have a mother, even if the woman isn't technically dead. Or maybe she is, for all Jon knows.

“But I want to hear the rest,” complains Lya from the backseat.

Jon says nothing.

Daenerys takes that as a sign to continue. “So, I walked through the door and then there was this flash of light that engulfed everything around me. I can’t explain it. For a few seconds, it felt like the world collapsed.”

Lyanna sucks in a sharp breath of wonder. “Wow!”

“I know,” Daenerys continues, “But then I opened my eyes and I was here instead of the forest. I couldn't recognise the location. I started walking around and asking for help but everyone was looking at me strangely. And what are these clothes that you people are wearing? Then I began to understand that Cersei has lied to me." She drops her voice to a secretive whisper, "I think Jaime’s sister is quite evil. The rumours about her were always bad but I refused to believe them. Well, now I do.”

“You think she did this to you?” Lyanna asks, intrigued.

Daenerys nods carefully. “I believe she sent me here. Cast a spell on me and my dragons.”

“Your dragons?” Jon’s daughter shrieks.

“Oh, yes. Here they are.” She opens the basket she’s been holding this whole time, the one placed on her lap. Even Jon is curious as to what she can possibly mean by dragons so he chances a look at her.

“Gods!” he yells, accidentally hitting the accelerator and having to swerve by a lorry, almost crashing into it. “What are those?”

“I don’t know why they look so weird,” she mumbles, caressing the _big _black lizard’s head. “I think that’s part of the spell.”

Lyanna leans forward and gasps. “Dad! They’re geckos!”

“Yes, I saw,” he breathes out, his heartbeat coming back to normal but the discomfort never fades now that he knows he’s sitting next to a crazy lady with three monstrous lizards.

Lyanna doesn’t seem to share his fright. If anything, she looks fascinated by the discovery, her face beaming. “What are their names?”

Daenerys casually holds the black one. “This is Drogon.” The green one, “Rhaegal.” And then she takes out the smallest, a golden gecko which curls around her wrist in a way that makes Jon shudder. How can she be so casual about this? “And this is my sweet baby, Viserion.”

“They’re so cute. Can I hold them?”

“No,” Jon practically yells. “You’re not touching these, Lyanna.”

His daughter sits back down, crossing her arms with a pout.

Daenerys gets the hint, thankfully, and puts them back in her basket. “And I continued searching for home but I failed again. And then…I met you two.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Jon enunciates, “You’re a princess who lived alone in a castle then one day you met a prince who asked you to marry him. But his sister is evil and wants you gone so she asked you to walk through a door and promised you’d meet your…deceased mother. Which you did and that brought you here.”

She smiles. “Yes.”

_She’s crazy._

That's it. The only thought that goes through Jon's mind. 

He considers another option. She did say a car almost hit her so perhaps that is really what happened and she had a concussion. But she doesn’t seem to bear any sign of a physical injury. “Do you remember anything at all other than this story?” Jon asks.

Daenerys frowns. “What story?”

“The one you’re telling.”

“That’s not a story. It’s what happened.”

“So, you want me to believe that there’s another Westeros with magic, dragons, Kings and Queens?” Jon is growing irritated now. He'd understand this crap coming from a child or even a teenager but Daenerys is an adult, clearly around his age.

“Well, I'm as shocked as you that there’s a Westeros where none of these exists,” she retaliates.

He remains quiet after that. Either she’s delusional, hurt or this is all part of an act. Whatever it may be, Jon begins to seriously regret taking this woman into his car and driving her home with them. His life is challenging enough as it is with his job, his daughter and his soon-to-be fiancée. The last thing he needs is a lunatic who’s claiming to be a princess from an alternate universe.

***

Lyanna is the one to run to the doorsteps while Jon helps Daenerys out of the car. Given that she ‘doesn’t know’ how a car works and her dress is _huge, _it’s a difficult task to get her out of the vehicle. He pulls hard on her hand and she finally pops out, carrying her little basket with her. “Thank you,” she says with a bright smile. He nods, closing the door behind her.

Meanwhile, Lyanna has opened the front door and runs inside. “Careful, Lya,” Jon says exasperatedly.

“This is our house,” Lyanna declares proudly in the living room.

Daenerys enters shyly, her hands clasped in front of her. She looks around curiously, mouth opening in awe. “It’s really pretty, Lady Lyanna.”

Jon’s had enough of this. Rolling his eyes, he says, “You can just call us Jon and Lyanna. She's not a lady, nor am I a lord.”

She nods. “Forgive me, I’m still not used to this weird world.”

Jon breathes in deeply. “Alright. You can sleep on the couch.”

He watches as she goes to sit on the sofa and then she takes out her geckos, murmuring to them as she pets the animals. Lyanna steps closer to her father. “What’s wrong with her?” she asks quietly.

“If only I knew,” Jon answers tiredly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He locks the front door and mumbles an awkward ‘goodnight’ to Daenerys. While Jon takes a shower, Lyanna brushes her teeth. He helps her change and tucks her in. Pulling the covers over his daughter, Jon sits on the edge of her bed for a moment, smiling down at a very exhausted Lyanna who can barely keep her eyes open.

“Have you seen her eyes?” His daughter inquires, a question he’s been asking himself all this time. “They are—”

“Purple,” he finishes for her. “I know. It’s weird.”

“Do you think she’s being honest?” Lyanna asks.

Jon brushes a strand of dark hair that has fallen over her eye. “I don’t think so,” he answers frankly. “Have you heard what she’s talking about? Evil twin sister, magic doors, _dragons_….”

Lyanna pouts. “But she sounds so sincere.”

“I know, love. I don’t think she means any harm and perhaps she’s just unwell. But you shouldn’t worry about any of this. You have school tomorrow.”

She looks even more disappointed now.

“And Ygritte is going to drop you off,” Jon adds tentatively.

Lyanna’s brown eyes move back to his. “What? Why can't I take the school bus?”

Jon chortles. “Won’t a car be more comfortable?”

She looks away.

“Hey,” he says softly, “What’s wrong? Don’t you like Ygritte?”

“I do. I know she makes you happy,” Lyanna replies.

He smiles. “She does. And does she make you happy?”

“Sure,” she answers half-heartedly.

“Lya…you should give her a chance. She really likes you.”

“She really likes _you_.”

Jon’s smile fades. “She’s a good person. She’ll show you that if you let her.”

Lyanna nods. “I’ll try,” she mutters.

“That’s more like it.” Jon bends down to press a sound kiss on her forehead, making her giggle. “I love you. Goodnight.”

“I love you too.”

Before he goes to bed, Jon checks up on their atypical guest one last time. He doesn’t know what to expect but all he sees is her curled up on his couch, head resting on the armrest and eyes closed in a deep slumber. He stares for a moment too long before he turns back around and goes to sleep, wondering if this is all just a really weird dream.

***

He awakes with a groan at the familiar sound of his alarm clock. Jon blindly reaches out to snooze it. _Just a moment longer. _But the next time he cracks open his eyes, it’s not the sound of the alarm that perturbs his sleep but rather a voice. A feminine voice singing. Jon jolts up on his bed, eyes stinging as they adjust to the light. On a whim, he is out of his room, descending the stairs and then slowing to a stop when he finds the source of that voice. Right. He totally forgot about Daenerys so the sight of a woman with long, silver hair standing in his kitchen almost makes his heart stop.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Daenerys turns to face him with a smile. “Good morning, Jon.”

He walks up to her in a daze, not fully comprehending the situation. One glance around the living room and he’s even more confused. “What….”

“I cleaned it all up for you this morning,” she answers his unasked query.

Jon opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He is flabbergasted by how clean and orderly everything seems. Gods, he forgot he even had a coffee table. He hasn’t seen the top of it in months due to all his paperwork being stacked on the surface. Daenerys has cleaned that up as well and has placed all of the documents in a neat pile. “You shouldn’t have,” he says. “I mean, thank you but really, you shouldn’t have.”

She shrugs. “It’s fine. I love cleaning.”

“Listen, if you still don’t know how to contact Jason—”

“Jaime,” she corrects him.

“Right, Jaime…then I think our next best option is for me to take you to the police station. I’m sure they’ll be more helpful than I can ever be,” he tells her.

Daenerys’ eyes widen. “What will this police station do? Will they bring me home?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I’m sure they have some procedures for people…like you.” He grimaces internally at his poor choice of wording. Who can blame him? There’s evidently something wrong with this woman and this is the most efficient way he can think of being helpful to her. He did enough already; he sheltered her for the night while people were just laughing at her strangeness. “And yeah, I'm sure they'll get you home safely. Perhaps they’ll spread the information of you being lost and that’ll help Jaime or someone else find you.”

Daenerys fiddles with the tips of her moonlight hair uncertainly. “But what if Cersei finds me?”

“Who’s that again?”

“The woman that sent me here, Jaime’s sister.” Daenerys looks down.

_Right. The evil queen. _

Jon runs a hand over his beard. “I don’t know what else to do,” he admits. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t know you. I can’t just let you stay here. I’ve no idea how else to help you.”

Daenerys seems to understand his dilemma. “I get it,” she says in such a quiet, little voice that Jon’s heart squirms a bit. This is unfair to him.

He wets his lips thoughtfully. “Maybe you could take a bath before you go,” he suggests.

Daenerys manages a nod. “I’d like that, thank you.”

Jon rummages through his things to get her something to wear. It’s not like he owns any women’s clothing, the only dresses he buys are for his daughter and, well, a six-year-old’s clothes won’t fit Daenerys. Thankfully, he finds one of Ygritte’s dresses that she left behind in one of the drawers. He hands it to the silver-haired woman and shows her where the bathroom is. In the meantime, Jon awakens Lyanna.

“Is she still here?” is the first thing Lya asks.

“Yes,” Jon answers, “But not for long. When I come back from work I’ll drop her off at the police station, they’ll know what to do.”

Lyanna’s shoulders slack down. “Are you sure she’ll be fine?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jon replies honestly, “We did all we could for her.”

By the time Jon is ready for work and Lyanna for school, they make their way back downstairs where a sweet aroma fills the air.

Daenerys is in his kitchen once more, her back facing him as she hums to a melody he doesn’t know. Since she is shorter than Jon’s girlfriend, the dress falls past her knees but the red material fits her form tightly since she is curvier than Ygritte.

She turns around and Jon cannot understand, for the life of him, how she managed to intricately braid her hair into a crown, loose silver curls hanging down her shoulders. The last time he left her (like, twenty minutes ago) her hair was in complete disarray and now she looks like whatever princess she claims to be.

“I made tea,” she announces. “To thank you both for your hospitality. Not many people would've done what you did for me last night. In fact, no one did. So, thank you.”

Lyanna grins and beats Jon to answering. “That is so nice of you, Princess. You're welcome.”

Jon resists the urge to correct his daughter. But at this point, who cares? Daenerys will be gone soon enough and they can go back to their lives and pretend this weird incident never happened so she can call her whatever she wants, it doesn't matter. 

Jon is approaching her in the kitchen when Lyanna asks, “Where are your dragons?”

“Geckos,” Jon corrects because _that _is just ridiculous.

“They’re on the table,” she answers.

Jon turns his head to the large table in the middle of the living room. His face morphs into a grimace at the sight of these three reptiles on it.

“You can go see them,” Daenerys encourages, “They’re not mean.”

“Absolutely not,” Jon scoffs.

Lyanna looks between the two of them. “Daddy, please?”

“Lyanna.” Jon’s voice is stern.

“I promise they won’t hurt her,” Daenerys interjects. “They’re very friendly. I like Lyanna so they will like her.” She makes it sound so simple with her ever-present smile.

Jon looks down at his daughter. “Fine but don’t touch them,” he reluctantly agrees.

Lyanna delightedly darts across the room to observe the animals up close, her ponytail wagging happily. Jon turns his attention back to the bizarre lady.

“Do you want some tea?” she asks, bright violet eyes boring into his own.

Under the light of the morning sun, the colour of her eyes is even more striking. Like amethyst crystals, they shine and flicker, and there’s a hint of gold in them. Her eyes are breath-taking, as otherworldly as her hair which looks like it’s been woven from gold and silver. There is something about Daenerys’ appearance that is as mind-boggling to him as her personality and her stories.

“Sure,” he answers.

And then this woman, this absolutely _insane _woman, grabs the teapot.

But not the handle like a normal person, no, she wraps her hands around the teapot itself even when smoke is coming out of it, clearly indicating the temperature.

Jon acts without thinking. He springs to the other side of the counter, taking it from her hands. With a hiss, he slams it onto the marble countertop, his skin burning. “Are you crazy?” he snaps at her.

Daenerys flinches, hands frozen mid-air. Jon doesn’t think much about it but the next instant, he is grabbing both of her hands in his, turning her palms up so he can observe the damage.

The non-existent damage.

His breath comes out in short puffs, his mouth parting wordlessly as he stares at her unblemished, pale skin while his hands – which only touched the hot jug briefly – are still tingling unpleasantly from the aftermath.

He shakes his head slowly. “How?”

Gently, she turns his hands around and inhales sharply when she sees that his skin has turned red. Her fingertips softly brush over his palms and Jon holds his breath, his heart doing a funny flip in his chest at the faint touch. She drags his eyes up and he realises how close they are, how her body is almost touching his.

And then the front door opens.

Jon jumps away from Daenerys, almost tripping on his way to the front door.

Ygritte stands in the doorway, eyes glued to her phone. Only when he appears in front of her does she look up, smiling. “Hey babe.”

“Hi,” he greets her, still a bit taken aback by what just went down. He tries not to show it as he steps forward and kisses her on the lips.

And then before he can explain the strange stuff that happened, Daenerys is standing next to him. “I am Princess Daenerys Targaryen,” she states chirpily, “And you are?”

Jon closes his eyes defeatedly when Ygritte says, "Uh...Jon, care to explain why this girl is wearing _my_ dress and calling herself a princess?"

***

“In conclusion,” Ygritte says after he’s told her everything that happened since last night, “She’s bloody insane.”

Jon chuckles drily. “I’ve no idea what’s wrong with her,” he replies.

“Why did you even bring her to your house? She's a complete stranger!”

“Because she was alone and crying on the streets,” Jon says unconvincingly, “Lyanna wouldn’t let me leave her in this state.”

Ygritte crosses her arms over her chest. “You know that this could be a set-up, right?”

Jon blinks at her. “A what?”

“You know, some women do desperate stuff for money.” She presses her thin lips together. “Maybe she was just trying to lure you in with such a trap, playing the victim and whatnot with this ridiculous tale.”

Jon doesn’t know why he feels the need to defend Daenerys but he does anyway. There’s a kind of naiveness about this girl, something he can’t quite put into words, but he just does not believe she has any ill intentions. She's far from being normal, sure, but something tells him that she isn't faking this whole thing. Jon decides to go with his gut feeling. “She never asked for money,” Jon reminds her, “She keeps talking about a man called Jaime. Her future husband or something. I don't think she's lying but I don't think she's completely...sane either.”

Ygritte rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Get rid of this weirdo. You always find a way to get yourself in trouble, don’t you?”

“You couldn’t be more correct about that,” he says with a meek laugh. Looks down at Ygritte’s car where Lyanna is sat in the passenger seat. She gave Daenerys a big hug before leaving the house and told her that she hopes she finds her prince. Jon repressed the urge to roll his eyes at the scene. “Hey, talk to her a bit, okay?”

“I do talk to Lyanna,” Ygritte insists. “But that's the thing, she’s not very talkative, your daughter.”

“She’s just shy,” Jon promises. “I want you two to get along.”

Ygritte smiles and kisses him chastely on the mouth. “I want that as well. Have a nice day, babe. See you tonight.”

Jon nods. “See you.”

He watches the car drive away before turning back to his house. Daenerys is sipping on a glass of tea when he spots her. “What was that all about?” he asks bluntly.

She looks up. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your hands,” Jon lets out, “You…you held something extremely hot. And nothing happened.”

“I guess I kept some magic after all,” she replies, looking thoughtful. “I’m immune to fire.”

Silence.

“You’re immune to fire,” he repeats.

She nods nonchalantly.

_Don’t ask more, you don’t wanna know, _he thinks. He’ll be late for work if he sticks around as she tells him another impossible tale about how she is fucking immune to fire. Gods. How has his life boiled down to this interaction?

The idea of leaving Daenerys alone in his house is suddenly quite unappealing. He has no idea what he’ll walk into when he comes back, what other crazy things she has up her sleeve.

He knows he’ll regret this just like everything else, he really does, but for her and his house’s sake, he proposes, “You can come with me to work.”

Her eyes light up like they always do when she hears an idea she likes. “Can I?”

“Sure,” he says, “But leave your—” he pauses to search for the right word, “—animals here.”

Daenerys nods comprehensively.

As he takes her back to his car, Jon’s mind wanders back to something his mother used to tell him when he was a kid. _Every person you meet is for a reason; there’s no such thing as coincidence. _He steals a glance from Daenerys, wondering whether them meeting was purely coincidental or if there is a deeper and more meaningful reason why life has thrust her into his way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was also part of the first chapter but it ended up becoming too long so i broke it down. i'm surprised how many people told me they wanted to read an enchanted AU haha, i'm happy i'm not the only one. there'll be some changes, of course, but the main plot is basically the same. also, in the movie the modern setting is new york but i prefer keeping it as modern westeros because i'm not too interested about writing real-life locations. 
> 
> the next update will take a while but i'll try to update this story every other week at the latest.
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed this, please leave a comment if you did :D 
> 
> [sorry for the errors; this is unbeta'd]


	3. back to normal.

“Daenerys! Where are you, my love?”

This place is weird. Not only are the people blatantly ignoring him (first of all, how _dare_ they ignore their future King?) but they’re giving him strange looks. Looks reserved for when people see weird creatures and…clowns.

“Damn you Cersei,” Jaime curses to the skies. “Where have you sent me?”

He walks down the strange road filled with big _things _on wheels and wonders about Daenerys. She must be alone and afraid right now. She must think he’s betrayed her as well. And a larger part of his mind wonders about her dragons. He’s not going to lie to himself; that was his ultimate reason to marry her. A woman with dragons—animals that were believed to be extinct for a thousand years.

He knows that when they grow up, they’ll obey him as well because, well, won’t he be their stepfather or something?

Then he looked at Daenerys and, admittedly, she took his breath away.

So, not only would he be getting three dragons from this marriage but a beautiful wife as well. Maybe even the most beautiful woman in Westeros. What else could he possibly want?

But now he’s lost both her and her dragons. All of that because of his petty, jealous sister.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.”

Jaime whirls on his feet at the source of this voice. His eyes widen at the sight of a large man scowling down at him. “How dare you speak to me like this,” he growls at the stranger.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asks. Strangely, his voice sounds quite feminine.

Jaime blinks, taking a longer moment to inspect the person in front of him. He’s tall, yes, and has bright blue eyes. His hair is chin-length and wavy and his rosy lips are pulled down in a frown. He blinks. “Are you a girl?” Jaime asks.

The stranger snorts. “Yes. And what are you, a prince?” She raises an eyebrow at his sword. 

Jaime straightens his spine. “As a matter of fact, _yes, _I am a prince.”

She laughs again and the sound irritates him. “Good for you. Just, please, learn how to walk properly.”

“Wait!” Jaime stops the woman from walking away. “Have you seen her?”

“Seen who?”

“Daenerys Targaryen. The fairest woman in the world. And her three dragons.”

The pale-eyed woman gazes at Jaime like he’s grown five heads. “Are you okay?” she asks genuinely. “Did you hit your head against one of these poles?”

“What? No! I’m serious. I need to find her, we need to get married.”

“Good luck with that,” she says and begins to walk away.

Jaime panics. She is the first person to actually talk to him in this world and he could really use some help navigating this place to find his future wife. “I will pay you,” he shouts. “If you help me find her, I swear that I’ll pay you more money than you’ve ever had in your life.”

She turns back to him slowly. “Do you think I’m a moron? To believe in what a random guy claiming to be a prince dressed _weirdly _is yelling at me on the streets?”

“Please.” Gods, he’s never begged in his life. If Cersei could see him right now, she’d be laughing. But desperation has wrapped a tight fist around his soul and he has no other choice. “I’m _really_ lost.”

She meets his eyes, then, and Jaime tries his best to convey his sincerity to her. For an instant, something softens in the blue depths of her irises and that gives Jaime hope. “I’m not sure I can help you,” she tells him and crushes his hope _until, _“But I can try.”

***

He was supposed to be at work by nine.

But it’s only at nine thirty that Jon is getting out of his car, opening the door for Daenerys who’s still not used to how cars work, apparently.

“What do you even use in that world of yours?” he asks as she grabs his hand to step out.

She looks at him, confused. “Horses.”

Jon blinks. “Of course,” he says to himself and closes the door behind her. “Come. I’ll be late.”

The glass door in the front slides open for him when Jon presses his thumb on the electronic touchpad, an action that elicits a gasp from his silver-haired acquaintance. “I thought magic didn’t exist here,” she says excitedly as she follows him inside.

“That’s not magic, it’s just….” A glance at her bright purple eyes filled with wonder has him trailing off with a sigh. There’s no way in the seven hells that he’ll be able to explain this to her. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

They finally make it to the front desk behind which none other than his sister is sitting and typing at a computer. The clicking sounds come to an abrupt stop when she lifts her head and sees him coming. Sansa raises a sharp eyebrow at him, lips thinning. “I’m hoping your tardiness isn’t becoming a habit.”

He smiles apologetically. “Only a one-time thing, I swear.”

Sansa’s eyes move from him to settle on Daenerys. _Oh gods, _Jon thinks, _the inevitable introduction. _“This is?”

“I’m Daenerys Targaryen.”

Jon is relieved that she didn’t say—

“I’m a princess but Jon here doesn’t seem to believe me so I’m assuming you won’t as well.”

_Never mind. _

Sansa nods very carefully. “A princess,” she echoes and looks at Jon again, her eyes filled with mirth. “Brother, care to explain?”

Jon faces Daenerys. “Can you just…go over there for a second?”

She looks at the couch in the waiting lounge and nods, smiling at him and then at Sansa. “It was very nice to meet you. You’re really pretty.”

Sansa chuckles. “Oh? Um, thank you. You’re really pretty too.”

Daenerys’ smile widens before she leaves them alone.

Jon drags his eyes back to Sansa who has her arms folded over her chest now. “Explain. Now.”

“Isn’t there a meeting that I need to attend?”

She shrugs. “Robb’s already in and you’re already late so.” Her eyes flicker back to Daenerys again. “Explain now,” she repeats firmly.

“Last night, I took Lya to dinner and then we saw _her_. She was lost and crying. Talking about some guy called Jaime and his evil sister who,” Jon pauses.

Sansa gestures for him to resume. “Who what?”

Jon grimaces, “Who sent her to our world.”

“So…she comes from another world?”

“Yeah. That’s what she says.”

Sansa stares at him for a few seconds. And then she bursts out in laughter, the loud and obnoxious kind, throwing her head back and all.

Jon sighs. “Sansa.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasps between chuckles, “Oh gods, you’re usually not a funny man so I have to say, this might be your best prank.”

“You know I’m not joking,” Jon hisses. “She’s _weird_. She also claims to have three dragons.”

Sansa is wiping the corners of her eyes as her body shakes with laughter. Jon is silently watching her, his face stern. “You done?” he deadpans.

“You can’t be serious,” she says, breathing heavily. Her smile begins to fade, eyes widening in realisation. “You’re being serious.”

“I just need you to stay here with her, okay? Once I’m done for today, I’ll just take her to the police station so they can figure out how to bring her home.”

“What do you want me to do with her?” Sansa asks, whisper-yelling the words as she eyes the girl sitting behind him.

“You’ll figure something out,” he dismisses her.

“Jon!”

He ignores her, grinning. “Thank you, Sansa. You’re the best.”

Jon makes his way to Daenerys who looks up at him curiously. “I’ll be back in a few hours. My sister will keep you company.” He searches for more to say. “Try not to do anything too…strange.”

She nods, twiddling her fingers idly on her lap. Her eyes pin him down in place when she softly asks, “Will you take me home after that?”

For a second, just a second, it’s easy to forget all the bizarre things surrounding this girl. Because now, the way she says those words so quietly, the way her eyes are full of a tragic mixture of hope and despair, Jon can see that despite their differences and despite his lack of understanding, she just wants to go _home_. Whether she’s speaking of another universe or a planet, Daenerys just wants to return to the place she calls home.

He shakes his head, clearing his mind. What she’s asking of him is absurd. And truthfully, she’s not his problem. “I’ll see what I can do for you,” is all he says, ignoring the slight furrow in her brows, the faint glint of disappointment in her eyes, as he turns around and walks away.

He should’ve never taken her home with him in the first place; they wouldn’t be here right now if he didn’t.

***

The meeting ends two hours later.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you all,” the client, an old balding man, says. He shakes Robb’s hand then Gendry’s and when he turns to Jon, the friendliness in his eyes fade a bit. “I thought this place was known for its professionalism,” he comments as he shakes Jon’s hand.

Jon smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry for being late,” he is quick to say, trying to sound polite and nice. “I understand it doesn’t give a good impression but I promise that this doesn’t reflect our work at all.”

The man nods. “Oh, no, I know. You guys are good. But still, tardiness is something that irks in.”

Gendry butts in to save the day, “So, can we set the next meeting for Thursday, let’s say? Will that be enough time for you to make a decision?”

Their client hums pensively. “I’ll let you guys know when,” he answers instead.

Robb places a hand on the man’s shoulder to guide him out. He’s always been good with people. Robb is friendly and warm while Jon is more reserved and cool. Their father always used to say that it’s good to have both of these qualities working together but Jon thinks that sometimes, it causes more harm than good.

“Where were you?” hisses Gendry, one of Jon’s closest friends, as they watch Robb and the client interact one last time.

Just as Jon is about to explain, Robb is finally done with the man and turns to his brother, dark eyes fixing Jon with a not-so-friendly look. “Where were you?” he asks.

Jon looks between the two of them. “It’s a funny story, actually.”

“I’m sure we’ll be laughing,” his brother comments sarcastically.

They don’t laugh but Gendry shakes his head in disbelief when Jon finishes telling them all that happened from the moment Daenerys stumbled her way into a restaurant to how he woke up this morning to her grabbing a burning teapot which did not blemish her hands.

“Holy fuck,” Gendry drawls, “What if it’s a ghost?”

Jon glares at him. “Be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. What if it’s the spirit of a princess that used to live—”

This time, Robb is the one to silence Gendry with a deadly look. He then looks at Jon with a sober expression. “All I’m getting from this is you took a stranger into your house.”

“_That_’s all you took from it? Not that, I don’t know, this woman’s claiming to be a princess from another world?”

“Oh, well, then you took a _crazy _stranger into your house.”

Jon rolls his eyes.

“Can we meet this Daenerys?” Gendry inquires. “I’m curious.”

“Yes, actually,” says Jon, “She’s here right now.”

Jon wasn’t sure what to expect when he’d see Daenerys again. His mind was only half occupied with the meeting while the other was wondering what Daenerys and Sansa were doing. So when he walks in on them talking and laughing, he is equal parts relieved and confused.

Sansa is the one to look up first and then Daenerys does. She smiles as her eyes find Jon’s and he forces a smile back.

“She’s really hot,” Gendry whispers to which Jon only narrows his eyes at him—again.

“Jon,” Daenerys says as she gets up, “Are we leaving now?”

“Yes we are,” Jon answers and gazes at Sansa. “Thanks for staying with her.”

“Hi, I’m Gendry,” Gendry introduces himself even if no one talked to him.

The silver-haired woman looks down at Gendry’s extended hand and back up to his face, looking a bit lost.

“You’re supposed to shake it,” Jon fills in for her.

“Oh.” Daenerys grabs Gendry’s hand a bit too forcefully and _shakes _it for all she’s worth, moving it like it’s an inanimate object. “I’m Daenerys!”

Gendry awkwardly laughs as he retracts his hand. “That was interesting,” he mutters to himself.

“Jon, can I speak with you?” Sansa asks.

Jon nods, leaving Gendry and Daenerys alone as his dumb friend tries to flirt with a very confused Daenerys. He’s already bad with girls but he’s hilariously worse with Daenerys.

Sansa takes Jon apart and stands in front of him, clasping her hands together. “I spoke to her,” she starts, “And she’s really sweet.”

“I know that,” Jon says because it’s true. Daenerys seems like a _very _kind person, a bit too sweet sometimes as if she truly lives in a world without worries that normal people endure every day.

“And I don’t think you should leave her at the police station.”

Jon frowns. “What?”

“You heard me, Jon.” Wetting her lips, Sansa voices out her concerns, “There’s something off about her. The things she’s speaking of, I’m sure you know how they sound.”

“Aye, crazy,” Jon answers truthfully, “I don’t get why you’re telling me this. What else am I supposed to do?”

“This is something people do when they deal with trauma,” Sansa tells him. “Invent another reality to hide the one they have to deal with.”

As bright and thoughtful his sister can be, Jon has a hard time understanding what she means. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“What if this Cersei she’s talking about is truly after her? What if this is just her trying to run from an abuser?” Sansa pauses for effect, “I, out of all people, know how this feels.”

Jon exhales. “Sansa, you can’t compare the horrible things that happened to you to what is happening with this girl. This complete stranger.”

“I know she’s a stranger but she trusts you,” Sansa says softly and Jon looks up at her, surprised by her words, “She told me so herself. Told me that nobody cared to help her other than you.”

Jon lets his gaze drift back to Daenerys who is twirling her hair and smiling to Gendry, her face beaming with happiness at whatever joke Gendry must be telling her. Conflicted, he asks, “What do you think I should do then?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, “But she’s so lost and it makes me feel bad knowing you’ll just leave her like this.”

His sister has always been softer than him, she’s always loved helping everyone. But Jon doesn’t think she should extend this helpfulness to people she doesn’t even know. “The cops will know better,” Jon argues.

“Will they?” she asks. “They won’t care. If no one comes to pick her up in a while, they’ll just let her go. And she’ll be on her own again. Or worse, if the person she fears comes get her then…” she trails off.

“That’s not fair,” Jon says. It’s not right to make him feel guilty over something that doesn’t even concern him in the first place.

“I know you’ll make the right choice,” Sansa says decidedly, giving Jon an easy smile before she walks away.

_Great, _Jon thinks, _now I’m even more confused. _

When Jon goes back to Daenerys, Gendry is laughing so hard people in the hall are glaring at him.

“Oh, she’s so funny,” Jon’s friend stutters between loud chuckles, “Tell him what you just said.”

Jon looks at Daenerys expectantly. She shrugs and elaborates, “I told him about how I got my dragons.”

“How?”

“I walked through fire with them, came out unscathed and they were born,” she answers ever so simply.

Jon stifles a sigh as Gendry laughs harder, much to Daenerys’ confusion.

“I love her already,” Gendry says, “So, _mother of dragons, _are you single or—”

“Okay,” Jon cuts in, glowering at his stupid friend, “That’s enough of getting to know each other. Daenerys and I have to leave, actually, so if you don’t mind Gendry…I’d like you to fuck off.”

Gendry rolls his eyes at him and has the audacity to wink at Daenerys, who only looks back at him with a befuddled smile and bids him goodbye. She turns back to Jon, her smile widening, “How was your day?”

How she still has the energy to be nice in the afternoon is beyond him. Jon gets grumpier as the sun goes higher in the sky. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looks at her, “Good. Listen, I don’t think I can help you.”

That spark in her eyes begins to die. “You can’t?”

“I don’t know how to.”

“Oh.”

_Fuck. _Jon hates the queasy feeling in his stomach at her soft voice. “Why do you even trust me?” he asks incredulously, “I’m a complete stranger and you told my sister that you trust me. Why?”

“Because you’re a good person.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You helped me. No one else did.”

“Letting you sleep on my couch does not mean you should trust me to get you home, Daenerys,” Jon answers, frustrated. “I don’t know how to.” The more upset she looks, the more intense this feeling in his guts becomes, like worms crawling in there and eating at his insides. Like a snake coiling around his organs, making him feel sick. He finds himself saying, “Unless you know exactly where your home is.”

She furrows her brows. “I know it’s King’s Landing. But….”

“King’s Landing,” Jon repeats. “That’s only a three-hour drive from here. We could—”

“But is it really King’s Landing?” she asks, sounding unsure.

“What?”

“You’re telling me this place is Winterfell,” she says, “But it’s really not. The North back home is…filled with snow. With many castles and moody lords and ladies. And this place is…it’s not the Winterfell I know.”

At this point, there’s nothing Jon wants to do more than grab her shoulders and shake her. Shake some sense into her. Ask her if she knows what she’s talking about; if she’s hearing herself and how deluded she sounds.

But then he remembers Sansa’s words and that gives him pause. She reminds him of his sister. Just like Sansa once was, Daenerys also looks frightened and lost. Just like Sansa did, Daenerys also trusts him. “I can take you to King’s Landing,” he offers, “Or I can leave you with the authorities here. Other than that…there’s not much else I can do.”

Daenerys seems reflective for a moment before she nudges her head positively. “King’s Landing,” she answers. “I think I’ll have a better chance of finding Jaime there.”

***

Jon decides that it’s better to postpone the trip to tomorrow since he’s not too familiar with the routes to King’s Landing and given the long drive it’ll be, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to come back home before Lyanna comes back to school. 

“It’s fine,” Daenerys says in his car, “You’re already doing a lot for me. I don’t mind waiting until tomorrow.”

He has half a mind to drop her off at a hotel or something but knowing Daenerys, which he doesn’t, really, she’ll probably set the place on fire by the time he comes get her tomorrow. So his house it is. Again.

“I really liked your friend Gendry,” Daenerys says. “He was nice.”

Jon resists the urge to roll his eyes. Gendry is nice to everyone—as long as he wants to get in their pants, that is. “He sure is.”

“And your sister. She’s so lovely,” she continues.

“I think you just find anyone nice.”

“Sure! I love people.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“But your daughter has to be the nicest person I’ve met in this strange place,” Daenerys tells Jon in a soft, sweet voice, “She reminds me of what it felt like to be home.”

Jon finds these words weirdly touching coming from a complete stranger. He gives her a little smile in response.

“Forgive me for prying,” Daenerys suddenly says, “But I couldn’t help but overhear her reluctance to go with your lover today. Why is it that she doesn’t like Ygritte?”

_Well, that’s certainly prying. _Jon clicks his tongue. “It’s not that she doesn’t like Ygritte, I just think she’s just very shy.” 

“Oh. What happened to Lyanna’s mother?”

Jon tightens the grip he has on the steering wheel and shakes his head. “I’d rather not speak about that.”

She is quick to apologise and they’re quick to forget this question.

After a moment, she declares in a definite and happy tone, “Everything will be fine. After all, you two are in love so it’s meant to work out.”

Jon snorts. “I doubt it works like that.”

She shoots him a weird look. “What does that mean?”

“Love isn’t the solution to everything.”

Daenerys releases a sound that sounds like a gasp; a surprised little thing bursting from her mouth. “How _dare_ you say that?”

He has no idea why she’s so offended. “It’s the truth.”

“Love _is _the answer to everything. Love is powerful and good. It’s one of the purest things that exist and if you believe in it, truly believe in it, love can be the solution to everythin—”

“Okay, slow down, princess,” Jon drawls, chuckling sarcastically, “Is that how you think love works? Sure, in the beginning it’s all beautiful but what about after a while? Worse, after marriage?”

“I don’t know. I’ve yet to get married,” she answers honestly.

Jon shrugs. “Well, after marriage, it’s no longer roses and romance. You have responsibilities. You’re tied to this person now, for better or worse. You live together, you have to adapt to each other, you have a family to build, a house to maintain. Not to mention financial problems.”

Daenerys crosses her arms over her chest and Jon detects a slight pout on her lips as he briefly glances sideways. “You make it sound like hell,” she says in a light scoff. “Marriage is all about uniting two soulmates.”

Admittedly, Jon is pessimistic in nature but he’s never met someone _as _positive as Daenerys. He didn’t think that was even humanly possible. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbles.

“Why aren’t you married?”

“Because of the reasons I just listed.” Jon rolls his eyes. “I love Ygritte but—”

“There shouldn’t be a but. Not if you truly love her,” the girl with silver hair interrupts him curtly, her tone holding a finality that shuts him up.

Annoyed, Jon shoots back, “Then why aren’t _you_ married yet?”

“I am going to get married.”

“I meant, before that.”

“Well, I’ve only just met him.”

Jon blinks. “You just met that Jaime guy? How long have you known him, then?”

“One day,” she answers.

Jon coughs on a laugh. “You’ve known this man you’re planning to marry for _one _day? Are you kidding me?”

“How long was I supposed to wait?” she asks, sounding genuinely confused as to why this seems like a terrible idea.

“I don’t know, long enough to know who you’re planning to marry,” Jon retorts.

“I don’t need to. I’ve heard plenty of great things about Jaime and I’m sure I’ll be endlessly happy with him,” she states.

“Hearing something about somebody and getting to know them are two very different things. You don’t know this person yet you think you’ll lead a happy life with him? How do you even know that?” Jon pauses. “This is what dating is for.”

“Dating?” Her tone is questioning.

“You know, taking someone out to dinner or anywhere, really. Get to know them. Their likes and dislikes, what they enjoy in life, their goals, their mindset…that’s what you do when you think you like someone.” Jon sighs. “Let me guess, you’ve never been on a date before?”

“No,” she replies truthfully, “This world is getting weirder and weirder.”

It’s easy to believe she’s really from another world given how weird _she_ is. “How do you know this marriage will work then? With you and Jaime?”

“Because of love.”

“How do you love someone you don’t really know?” he inquires. “Do you really love him or just the idea of love?”

_That _scores him a silent response. For the first time ever, Daenerys doesn’t seem to have an answer to this question. With her lower lip trapped between her teeth and her eyes focused on the road, she looks completely dumbfounded. “I’ve never thought about this,” she says. “Love is supposed to be easy. And simple. That’s how it is where I’m from, love starts wars and ends them. It’s the answer to everything.”

“Nothing is easy and simple,” he informs her gruffly, “Nothing real, anyway.”

“You don’t make sense to me,” she replies, just an ounce of anger seeping into her words. “Why would anyone choose to be this negative?”

Jon doesn’t bother replying to that and the conversation ends there. Abruptly, on a tense and unresolved note. The rest of the drive is heavily filled with that same silence.

***

It’s almost six p.m. when Ygritte finally drops Lyanna back home.

Jon spots his girlfriend’s car in the driveway and relief finally fills his body. He’s been waiting for almost two hours now. When Ygritte steps out of the vehicle, Jon can’t help but snap, “Where have you been?”

She rolls her eyes. “Just went to get a manicure.”

“You should’ve brought her home first,” Jon says, sighing as he opens the door for Lyanna.

His daughter steps out and Jon immediately takes off the bag from her shoulders. She is looking down, scowling at her shoes. He kneels next to her, cradling her small face in one hand. “Hey,” Jon says softly, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired,” she mutters and slides out of his grasp, running inside the house.

Jon stands up, facing an apologetic Ygritte. She sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. I met up with some girlfriends and we had a chat.”

“You know she doesn’t like long drives,” he says, trying to mask his annoyance. He keeps trying to solidify Ygritte and Lya’s relationship but the woman he loves never seems to want to make an effort. It’s always one step forward and two steps back with these two and he’s so tired of it.

“I asked her to come with me but she wanted to stay in the car,” Ygritte answers.

_Is she really blaming a six-year-old? _Jon bites back the urge to start an argument. “Lyanna is shy. She wouldn’t feel comfortable with your friends.”

“I know.” Ygritte takes a step forward and wraps her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. “How was your day?”

Jon doesn’t comment on her ability to always change the subject when she sees fit. Instead, he exhales quietly. “Well, Daenerys is still at my house.”

She grimaces. “Thought you were getting rid of her.”

“Sansa told me that maybe leaving her at the police station might not be the best idea since she clearly doesn’t know this place at all,” Jon answers. “So tomorrow I’ll take her to King’s Landing.”

“But tomorrow’s Friday!”

“And?”

“We’re supposed to go out for dinner.”

“I’ll be back before that,” he promises.

She looks satisfied with this response. Leaning up to softly kiss him on his lips, she whispers, “I miss you.”

Jon hums against her mouth. “I’ve missed you too. I wish work wasn’t keeping us so busy.”

“I’m sure there is a simple solution to that. To let us spend more time together…” she trails off suggestively.

Jon pulls away slightly, closing his eyes for a moment. “I told you, I need to speak with Lyanna first.”

Ygritte steps out of his arms with a scoff. “It’s always the same,” she complains.

“I need to talk to my daughter if I’m going to marry you, you can’t expect me not to,” he says incredulously.

“Yes! Well, just do it.” She gives him an exasperated look. “It just feels like you’re coming up with excuses to delay it.”

“I’m not,” he swears but can’t offer more words of consolation. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t broken the news to his daughter yet, why every time he tries to, he manages to find a way to avoid it.

“Whatever.” Ygritte walks up to her car. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”

It doesn’t surprise Jon that they leave on yet another bad note, something that seems to slowly be becoming a habit now. He watches her drive away for a while longer before going back into his house.

Jon walks in thinking he’d find Lyanna in a bad mood. One of these moods which he is helpless to fix – something that often happens with he leaves his daughter with his girlfriend. He hates that it always comes down to this and that he cannot find a way to put an end to it.

But Lyanna isn’t brooding when he finds her. Not right away, anyway. She is sitting on the couch, big eyes intently watching Daenerys as the silver-haired girl speaks. “…I managed to teach them just this word.”

Lyanna seems intrigued. “What does that word do?”

“Make fire come out of their mouths.”

This earns her a loud gasp from Jon’s daughter. “_Woaaaah_!”

Daenerys nods excitedly. “I know! Well, Drogon is the only one who managed to learn the trick and it didn’t work as well as I’d hoped but I’m sure they’ll get better with time.”

Jon sighs, not knowing what new story he just walked into and frankly, he’s too tired to ask. But when he makes his presence known by clearing his throat, the wonder and amazement in Lyanna’s eyes fade away and her face scrunches up in a scowl. “Daenerys,” says Lyanna, “Tell Dad that I don’t want to speak to him.”

He rolls his eyes, about to call her childish but then he realises that she _is_ a child after all. Daenerys looks up at him, an unsure smile on her face. “Um….”

“I heard her just fine,” Jon replies. “Lyanna, please, at least look at me.”

His daughter turns her face further away from him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Lyanna,” Daenerys says, her voice gentle and as always, sweet. “Your father wishes to talk to you.”

“I don’t wanna talk to him,” the little girl states. “Not until he promises he won't make Ygritte pick me up from school again.”

Jon rolls his eyes. She is truly incorrigible. Must be something she got from her mother since he’s pretty sure he’s not this stubborn. “Lya,” Jon says, “Ygritte just wants to befriend you—”

“No, she doesn’t! She likes you and not me. I _don’t_ want to be friends with her.”

“You’re not giving her a chance.” He feels like they have this same argument every week. Same with Ygritte.

“And you’re choosing her over me,” she accuses, Jon’s draw dropping at the words that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

But his retaliation dies down on his tongue because on a whim, his daughter is sniffing loudly, getting on her feet and running out as fast as she can, leaving him bewildered and hurt.

He finds himself staring at Daenerys dumbly, a stranger who just witnessed this argument. “Sorry you had to see this,” he offers.

Her eyes are slightly wider than before, lips parted in surprise at the outburst. “You should give her some time to calm down,” Daenerys replies instead, quietly. “She’ll feel better if you leave her alone for a while.”

He’s not sure why he should be listening to her advice given the fact that she might not be in the best place to be offering guidance. But he nods, knowing that might be the best option as well. “See,” Jon says as he makes his way to the kitchen, drawn to the fridge, to the cold beer he knows he’ll find inside. He needs to unwind. “You thought marriage was easy but _this _is what I have to get through before it.”

“Are we arguing about this again? This situation can also be easily solved with love. Lyanna and Ygritte need to learn to love each other despite their differences.”

“If only it was this easy,” he deadpans at her, taking a can out. “Want some?”

She blinks at the drink. “What is that?”

“Beer,” he answers, chuckling. “I don’t know what you call it in _your world_.”

“I’m sensing mockery in your tone,” she tells him.

“You don’t say.”

She frowns. “Why is it so hard to believe what I’m saying?”

He takes a long, thoughtful sip as he watches her. “Put yourself in my shoes. This random girl whom you’ve picked from the streets is telling you about another world or, is it universe? Dimension? Anyway, she’s telling you all this crazy shit about Kings, Queens, magic doors and dragons. Would you believe her?”

“Put yourself in my shoes. I landed here, in a strange land where _no one _and nothing resembles what I remember from where I came. Everything is different and the only person who decides to help me thinks I’m a liar.”

“I don’t think you’re a liar per se.”

She looks down. “But you do think I’m crazy.”

Jon cringes internally. _Well, maybe a bit_.

His silent reply seems more than enough for her. The violet eyes he’s staring into flash with pain, Daenerys’ small face falling as she nods carefully. “Maybe I should go speak with Lyanna,” she tells him softly, voice not that much higher than a whisper.

Jon watches her go, following the same path his angry daughter just took and thinks, _maybe I’m just bad at talking to women. I managed to piss off three in less than an hour._

***

She is sitting cross-legged on her bed when Daenerys enters her room after knocking. Lower lip pulled between her teeth in deep concentration, Lyanna is scribbling messily on a drawing instead of actually colouring it. Daenerys smiles at the sight. She’s always loved children but this one has her heart in her tiny hands. She’s just so adorable and always so eager to hear about what she has to say – the closest thing to a friend she has in this strange, cold place is a six-year-old girl and she doesn’t even mind.

“Did Dad send you here?” Lyanna asks grumpily.

Daenerys shakes her head. “No, your father is in the kitchen.” Slowly, she comes closer to her bed until Lyanna looks up, finally cracking a smile and moving to the side to let her sit. Dany does so gladly. “Do you want to talk about him?”

Lyanna pauses to think about it. Then she lowers the crayon and turns to Daenerys. “I don’t like his girlfriend.”

“Why not?”

“She’s mean.”

Daenerys furrows her brow. “To you?”

“No, just in general.” Lyanna shrugs. “She gets angry easily. And I feel like I just annoy her.”

“That’s not true. I don’t think anyone could find you annoying,” Daenerys teases her, bumping her shoulder into hers jokingly.

Lyanna’s smile widens a bit but then it falls right back down. “But I don’t want to hurt Dad.”

Daenerys hums in reflection. “Okay, perhaps the solution is a compromise.”

“A comp…romise?” Lyanna struggles with the word, cocking her head in an adorable, confused fashion.

“Yes. It’s when you find a middle ground. You don’t like spending much time with Ygritte but your father wants you two to get along. How about you tell him you’ll only spend time with her when he’s with you two? This way everyone gets what they want.”

She slowly smiles. “I could do with that.”

“Great,” Daenerys exclaims, grinning with her. “Now give me a big smile.”

Lyanna jokingly shakes her head but when Daenerys leans forward to tickle her, loud fits of giggles erupt from her mouth as she writhes and shrieks under her fingers, making Daenerys laugh in delight. “Stooo-op,” she chokes.

Daenerys obliges, beaming at her friend.

“Will you teach me how to speak that language you told me about?” she asks quietly.

“Valyrian?” Dany inquires.

Lyanna nods.

“That would be my pleasure,” Daenerys answers.

Lyanna throws her small arms around Dany excitedly, hugging her with all her might. “You’re so cool!” The six-year-old proclaims, “I wish Ygritte was more like you.”

***

_I wish Ygritte was more like you. _

He didn’t intend on eavesdropping on their conversation but he needed to speak with Lyanna. And after all, Daenerys remains someone they barely know so, Jon leaned against the doorframe and through the small crack the door left, he watched the two girls speak on her bed.

He can’t describe the feeling that fills his chest, then, as the scene plays out in front of him. For the longest time, he’s wondered what it’d be like for Lyanna to have a mother. He might give her all the love and protection in the world and if he’s good enough at it, which at times he doubts, maybe she won’t ever feel the absence of a mother figure but sometimes, Jon can’t help it. He’s tried to picture them as a family. Him, his daughter and a mother to look after her. A wife to share this experience with – someone to wake up in the middle of the night when Lyanna has a nightmare, someone to be worried sick with when his daughter is ill, someone to be proud with when she accomplishes something worthy of merit. Just…_someone. _

In his mind, that someone has to be Ygritte. He loves her, he is sure of that, and if not her then who else to spend the rest of his life with?

But Ygritte and Lyanna never behaved like a mother-daughter duo, never like how she and Daenerys are right now. On her bed, laughing, talking and being with each other. The sight tucks at his heartstrings because there’s nothing that makes him happier than seeing his daughter happy. And she is. She seems so incredibly joyful around the woman with platinum hair, speaking freely with her, as if she’s known her for a lifetime. As if she is her mother.

And then her words hit him even harder. _I wish Ygritte was more like you. _Jon tenses up, not knowing what to say. She is too innocent to understand the heavy implication behind these words but, suddenly, standing there, Jon knows that making Lyanna see Ygritte as a mother is out of his control. It’s not something that he can achieve. If she doesn’t want to, she never will love her like a mother. She never will love her, _at all,_ and it seems there’s nothing he can do about it.

What is it about Daenerys, then, that is so alluring to Lyanna? His usually shy daughter opening up to a stranger makes no sense to him. Is it because she’s pretty, truly like one of these princesses Lyanna loves – with hair as pale as snow and eyes as bright as fire? Is it because of the way she’s always positive, always so bloody nice it’s infuriating, always looking for the good in every shitty little thing? Or is it just her tales of dragons and magic?

Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem fair to Jon that this tiny, peculiar woman can just show up in his life and turn it upside down.

It doesn’t matter.

Tomorrow, he’ll drive her to King’s Landing. He’s played nice long enough, kept her an extra day because he felt bad – because Sansa guilt-tripped him into it.

But no more.

Tomorrow, she’ll be gone for good and everything will be back to normal.

His life and Lyanna’s as well.


	4. so sweet it hurts.

“_Mhm. _It _melts _in my mouth. _Mhmmm, _it’s so good. So good.”

Brienne stares at him. She’s developed a habit of doing this, Jaime has noticed. Ogling at him as if he’s grown ten monstrous heads. Jaime is used to women staring at him, because, _well, _there’s a lot to stare at but he’s never had a girl look at him like he’s the ugliest specimen to walk on this planet. Which is exactly how Brienne looks at him.

“Gods,” she breathes out, “You eat like a bloody pig.”

Jaime’s mouth drops open at the accusation and the food dribbles down his chin which admittedly is probably disgusting to look at. Brienne grimaces and picks up the napkin folded on the table to wipe at his mouth. “This is so good,” Jaime enunciates again, “What’s it called?”

“A burger,” she answers slowly like she is speaking with a child. “You’ve never had a burger in your life?”

“No. As Westeros’ future King, I shall have this for breakfast every day from now on,” he proclaims.

“Shh,” she shushes him with a glare. “We’re at a restaurant and you’re being obnoxiously embarrassing.”

People _are _staring at them, but Jaime doesn’t understand what she means by that. He is the farthest thing from embarrassing. That’s not even in the top forty words to describe him but charming, chivalrous and handsome definitely are. She’s such a strange woman.

“Anyway,” Brienne drawls, “Let’s get to work. This fiancée of yours, what’s her name again?”

“Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t you wish to know her titles?”

“Her what?” Brienne shakes her head to herself then sighs heavily, as if dealing with Jaime is one of the most tiring things in the entire universe. “Dude, I swear you must’ve had a concussion or something. Nothing that comes out of your mouth ever makes sense.”

Jaime scowls. “You’re mean, has anyone ever told you that? Women don’t swear as you do.”

“Too fucking bad,” she deadpans and looks down at a little rectangular thing which lights up. A phone, she’d told him earlier. It’s called a phone and it’s used to contact people. The concept is still too strange for him to grasp. Gods only know what weird place his sister sent them to but he’s eager to get back home. Especially away from Brienne and her rudeness. “I can’t find her on social media. Does she have a Facebook?”

“A what?”

An aggravated huff. “Not on Instagram either…neither Twitter. Dude, are you sure you even _have _a girlfriend?”

“She is almost my wife! We met—”

“Yes, I know. You met yesterday and you’re incredibly in love and soon to be King and Queen. You told me that already and I’ll tell you what I think again: that’s bullshit.” Brienne narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t even know why I’m helping you,” she mutters to herself. “My life truly is pathetic.”

Jaime wipes his mouth properly, still enjoying the aftertaste in his mouth. “Tell me about you, my lady.”

“I’m not a –” She sighs. Again. “Never mind. I…I just got out of a pretty shitty relationship. I found out my husband was cheating on me with a co-worker. Someone ten years younger than him too and….”

Women love talking but Brienne _adores _it, Jaime thinks to himself as she tells him the entire story of her cheating husband and how he ruined their ten-year marriage.

“…And he’s a fucking piece of shit, you know? Fuck you Tormund and your weird obsession with milk.” She takes in a deep breath. “Wow, that felt good.”

He blinks, surprised by her outburst. Her words are as crass as his drunk bannermen’s after a long, tiring battle. “I’m glad you feel better.”

“I really need the money,” she says but this time, it’s softer. Calmer. “You can probably tell since I’m sitting here, putting up with you. No offense, by the way.”

“None taken.” Actually, he is very offended she thinks he’s annoying but hey, they have to work together right now so perhaps that’s not important.

“Our son is sick. And his stupid father has run off with a twenty-two-year-old. I’m alone and working two jobs but…it’s still not enough for his treatment. I don’t know why I’m trusting you but as weird as you seem, you also seem very honest to me.”

Jaime sits up straighter, nodding. “I am,” he agrees immediately. “I am honest. And brave. These are two of the most important qualities in a King, after all.”

“Sure, if you say so.” Her sea-blue eyes find him. “So you’ll help me, then? If we find your wife?”

“I will bless you with all the riches of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“See? That made no sense to me.”

“Yes, I will pay you,” he clarifies.

Brienne nods. “Good. Then let’s go find her, Jaime.”

She gets up and he stares at the woman with short blonde hair in confusion. “Where are we going?” he asks tentatively.

“We’re going to my house. We’ll print out some posters to stick around. You love to describe your wife, don’t you? So you’ll describe her to me and we’ll ask people if they’ve seen someone like her. Surely if she dresses like you, someone must’ve noticed her.”

Jaime nods and follows her, despite not knowing what ‘print out some posters’ means.

***

Jon’s eyes crack open to the sound of a woman singing for the second consecutive morning. Today it doesn’t surprise him as it did the previous day, jolting him out of bed. Instead, he wakes up slowly, as if he would on a normal morning, adjusting to the sun rays shining through his windows. Jon descends the stairs to find Daenerys in his kitchen, singing to herself as she moves around like she lives here.

Jon watches her. Feeling hesitant to break the bubble she’s stepped into, oblivious to the world around her as she hums and murmurs the words to what sounds like a love song. She has a sweet voice, the kind you’d want to listen to as you fall asleep, the kind that feels like a physical caress of comfort. Her voice is _warm _while she looks like ice personified.

Is there someone as beautiful as her? Jon is not even exaggerating when he thinks that she might truly, undoubtedly be the most gorgeous woman – person – he’s laid his eyes upon. Her hair is a mixture of gold and silver, her skin is pale and rosy and her _eyes _seem to have been made from the most magical crystals in the world melted into one.

She catches him staring. She just turns around at some point and stops singing, eyes widening the slightest as they meet his own. Jon hopes he isn’t blushing like a fool but he can physically feel the heat on the apples of his cheeks. He clears his throat, offers her a smile. “Good morning.”

“Hello,” she replies, smiling widely. Oh, yes, he failed to mention that she has a contagious, overpowering smile which somehow only serves to make her prettier. “I was hoping you wouldn’t wake too early. I was making you guys breakfast.”

“We’re usually good with cereal,” he answers truthfully.

“I wanted to. I’m not sure I figured out how to use these _things_—” she waves aimlessly at the oven, “—properly but I did try to make biscuits.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” he says with a smile. “Thank you, Daenerys. I’ll go wake Lyanna.”

“Alright.”

His daughter, like most kids, hates waking up. She groans exaggeratedly on the bed, twisting and turning as she complains. But the moment Jon mentions Daenerys making breakfast, Lyanna is done moaning about waking up. She gets up from the bed obediently, running down the stairs to Daenerys. Jon trails behind, not knowing how to feel about his little girl jumping in Daenerys’ arms to embrace her. He is usually the only one to get a morning hug.

“I’m not sure if you’ll like them but these are my favourite biscuits,” Daenerys says as she slides over a plate of them over to Lyanna.

After one big bite, Lyanna hums appreciatively. “They’re really good. Thanks, Dany!”

_Dany? Since when do they have nicknames for each other now? They’ve only known one another for two days!_

“You’re most welcome.” Daenerys looks up at Jon. “Won’t you eat?”

He awkwardly shuffles to the table. “I’ll have one, thanks.” He picks a biscuit up and brings the hot pastry to his mouth, surprised by how good it really tastes even if he isn’t a big fan of chocolate.

“You’ve both made this experience a bit less overwhelming for me. I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t meet you two so, thank you,” Daenerys tells them.

Jon smiles.

“You’re taking her home today, Dad?” Lya asks.

Jon nods. “I’ll try, yeah.”

“Oh.” While she does sound happy, Lyanna’s voice hides a hint of sadness which is also very clear in her eyes. “Does that mean we’ll never see each other again, Dany?”

Daenerys’ eyes turn nostalgic as well. “I’m afraid so, Lya.”

Jon’s daughter hops down from the chair and walks over to Daenerys. She flings her arms around the woman’s waist, taking her aback momentarily before Daenerys recovers and hugs her back, closing her eyes as she presses a kiss to the little girl’s head. “I wish you could stay with us forever,” Lyanna mumbles, sniffing.

Daenerys opens her eyes, then, and looks at Jon. Suddenly the moment is filled with too many emotions between the two of them and he looks away, not knowing what to do or say. “I know,” the silver-haired girl answers quietly, sighing. “But all good things must come to an end.”

***

After an emotive goodbye and a two-hour drive during which Daenerys peacefully slept on the passenger seat, not once waking up, Jon finally makes it to King’s Landing. He’s only been here once or twice before, the last time being on a meeting with Robb, but he doesn’t know the city well enough to not be mesmerised by its beauty. From the tallest buildings and most complex architecture in the world to the never-ending traffic, King’s Landing is a sight for sore eyes.

Jon glances to his left and sees that Daenerys is still fast asleep, leaning against the door, her hair pulled to one side, exposing the pale expanse of her throat. He forces his eyes away from the distracting sight, collects his wits, and then gently pushes at her shoulder. “Wake up, we’re here.”

Daenerys makes a little sound from the back of her throat and slowly opens her eyes, blinking a few times as she sits up. She licks her lips, her eyes growing big as she looks out, a childlike wonder plastered on her face. “This place is beautiful.”

“This is King’s Landing for you,” Jon says, observing her face for a moment too long. “Do you want a little tour?”

He doesn’t know what got into him to propose such a thing.

This is his opportunity to leave her. Let her explore and find her way home. _Get rid of her. _But he finds himself unwilling to part with her yet, something pressing him to hold onto her magic for a moment longer. Just a moment.

And when a grin splits her face in two, her amethyst eyes shining as they bore into his, he finds that he doesn’t regret his decision. “I would love a tour,” she tells him softly.

***

For a tour, one would have to know the place they’re showing off.

Jon is a tourist himself in King’s Landing so it’s easy to guess how the tour turned out to be. (Hint: not good).

He says dumb things like: “I think that’s, uh, the Iron Bank. It’s a…bank.”

And since Daenerys doesn’t have it in her to be mean in any way, shape or form, she only excitedly answers with a, “That’s nice!”

He takes her to the _Night’s Watch _museum, one of the biggest and most well-known places in Westeros. Daenerys remarks that the building looks like a castle and Jon agrees just because it brings a spark to her eyes and he wants so badly to understand her.

She loves it in there. It mostly contains relics of the wars between different countries and while the swords and boats are certainly nice to look at, Daenerys is _entranced _by the artefacts. She looks up at the paintings on the walls as if under a spell and Jon has to stop himself from looking at _her _the same way, for there is something uniquely lovely about the way she is happy to be here and it does funny things to him, seeing her like this, no longer scared and confused but content and excited to explore. Things that he shouldn’t feel for a stranger he’s supposed to be leaving.

She listens attentively as one of the workers explains to her the history behind different antique objects. Even the guy seems surprised by her interest in what he has to say and the passion she exudes.

“I loved it here,” Daenerys declares as they head out, “It was so pretty. Have you ever been here before?”

“Once when I was a kid, I think. But no, I find museums quite boring.”

She looks at him with an astonished face. “You don’t know how to have fun, Jon.”

He snorts at that. Sarcasm crawls into the tone of his voice. “Sure, _I’m _the one who doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“What is your idea of fun?”

He almost wants to tell her to let it go but the provocative glint in her violet eyes gives him pause, he wants her to have fun. He wants his last memory of her to be one of happiness, to remember the brightness of her smile. Jon’s lips quirk up. “Follow me and you’ll see.”

***

“What _is _this?”

“This is called a Ferris wheel.”

He recalls how much he used to love those as a child. Robb, on the other hand, would cry every time they went on one. He doesn’t know under which category Daenerys will fall but at least he’s piqued her interest, he can tell this much by the stunned look on her face. “It’s huge,” she comments, staring at the large, circular wheel. “And you climb on it?”

Jon laughs. “Well, not physically. You get to sit.”

“Does it spin fast?”

“No, it’s actually slow. You’ll get some incredible views.”

“I’m in!”

Once buckled in, Daenerys begins to grow nervous next to Jon. He notes how she is looking everywhere, gnawing on her bottom lip as panic colours her face.

“It’s going to be alright,” he tells her.

“Oh gods, it’s moving,” she hisses.

He smiles. “Yeah. It does that.”

“I feel like we’re going to fall.”

“We won’t,” he swears, patting her hand reassuringly but then she startles him as she turns her palm up, fingers interlacing with his with such a ferocity that it would’ve made him laugh were not bewildered by the fact that she is holding his hand.

Instead of looking at the view, Jon stares at their intertwined hands, his thumb inadvertently brushing over her knuckles. _It’s just to make her feel better. _He looks back up then. Admiring the sun setting, bringing an orange and indigo glow to the sky. The whole city can be viewed from here. The incredibly immense buildings, the trees in a distant park, birds flying overhead.

“It’s so beautiful,” Daenerys murmurs to herself.

The ride moves slowly and Jon’s heart speeds up a bit, the height can be frightening, even if it’s the good kind. Daenerys has calmed down, immersed in the scenery being displayed before her. For the umpteenth time, he is thrown by her beauty. Her hair looks like fire now under the setting sun, every strand of silver hair burning with the intensity of a thousand flames. It makes her look ethereal and he’s no longer certain about the reason for his rapid heartbeat.

***

When she lets go of his hand once they’re safe and sound on the ground, Jon’s fingers flex at the sudden emptiness.

“How was it?” he asks conversationally.

She looks overjoyed. “Incredible. The museum was also great but you were right, this was much more fun.”

“There are wilder rides but I don’t think you’re ready for them,” he teases.

“Definitely not,” she agrees with a chuckle and abruptly stops. “What is this?”

Jon looks at what she is pointing to and answers, “It’s a photo booth.” She still has a funny confused face on. He goes on to elaborate, “You take pictures to commemorate a good day you spent or something.”

“I spent a great day! I want to remember it.”

He blinks. “Uhm, okay then let’s take a photo.”

It’s awkward to sit beside her inside the small booth, the space available too cramped for the two of them. Daenerys almost ends up on his lap, her hair getting in his face. She smells of roses and he focuses on the lens in front of him, not on the fact that it’d be easy to nuzzle his nose into her hair to get more of that sweet scent.

When they get out to take the pictures, Daenerys is in awe. “This is so great! I wish things like this existed where I come from.”

He chuckles in response.

“Can I keep the picture?” she inquires, expressive eyes studying him. “I want to remember today.”

He nods. “Sure.” Her words remind him of what he’s supposed to do—what he came here to do. Jon swallows. “I suppose this is goodbye then.”

Her smile flickers, a crack in the happiness on her face. “Right,” she says quietly. “This place is huge. I hope I find Jaime,” she muses.

“I hope you find him as well,” Jon answers. “I hope you get to the wedding you’ve spoken of so fondly. And I hope these guys turn out alright.” He looks down at her basket, in which he knows he’ll find the three monstrous lizards she loves.

She smiles. But it’s so sad that Jon feels the need to look away. It’s so sweet it hurts. “And I hope things turn out okay with you, Lyanna and Ygritte. She’s a great girl, your daughter. And I don’t know Ygritte that well but I’m sure you three will forever be very happy.”

_How do you know that? _Jon wishes to ask her, his pessimistic nature urging him to do it. To ask her why she believes he’ll be happy, why she thinks _she _will be happy with that Jaime guy. And he wishes to ask himself, _why the fuck do you care?_

“Take this with you,” Jon suddenly says, taking his wallet out. “You’ll need money to get around.”

She is hesitant to take it but he insists, placing the bills on her palm and pulling his hands away quickly, not wanting to linger and remember how tightly she clutched at his hand earlier. “Goodbye Jon,” Daenerys says softly and steps forward to hug him.

His throat tightens as he wraps his arms around her. His chest grows heavy when she pulls away, looking into his eyes one last time. Jon turns away first because he’s afraid he might’ve caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes and his heart is twisting in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe all of a sudden.

He doesn’t look back at her. This is what he wanted from the moment he met her, to be free of her, not having to worry about her anymore. She is no longer a problem of his—she never should’ve been, anyway, and now he finally got rid of her and her unbelievable, stupid tales about magic and dragons. Plus, she’s engaged. Soon to be married. She’s weird and not at all realistic.

No matter how much he tries to convince himself of all those things, no matter how desperately he tries to fill his head with negativity, Jon feels shittier with every step he takes, her smile etched onto her memory. It’s hard to walk faster, as if the world is trying to tell him that he’s making a monumental mistake by leaving her behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys, i’m actually in need of a beta for one of my stories, if any of you is interested please hit me up on twitter (danysaegon).


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